I grew up in a little town in rural southwestern Ontario. And, I spent a lot of time at the baseball diamond in said town; I played for years, then in high school one of my summer jobs was cutting the grass at the park. My dad helped to build the 30-foot-high backstop in the late '80s with a bunch of other local guys; there's a picture in our family photo album, on one of those days they were building the backstop, of my brother and I helping to paint the wooden stands (which are still there).
Every August, the town's volunteer fire department holds a men's two-pitch softball tournament at that park. As a kid, I used to watch some of the games; when my brother and I were a little older, we kept score and did the announcing thing on a little microphone/PA thing (we said the score, who was up, and who was on deck). I even played in it briefly a few years ago, because a guy my dad knows who had a team needed a player, and I was free, so why not?
Tonight, my dad and I went over to the tournament, which is on this weekend. We went to the beer tent and had a beer, then went over and watched one of the games, leaning up against the fence along the first-base line. I can remember, playing there as a kid, some of the local older guys (perhaps a generation older than my dad's), standing along the same fence, watching us kids play. And there I was, with my dad, at the fence.
As we were watching the game and shooting the bull, the sun had just set in the west (the direction we were facing); a sliver of a crescent moon was partway up the western sky, tinted a faint orange. There's not a tall building in sight, of course, so the sky goes all the way down to the distant trees, ensuring maximum sunset enjoyment for all. A change in the breeze had signified the coming of the promised cold front, and it did feel quite a bit cooler.
The kids announcing the batter and on-deck guy tonight... well, that was me and my brother, twenty years ago. I was tempted to go over to them and say, "I did that when I was a teenager, too." But, reflecting on it now, I'm glad I held off. I hope they get the same silent satisfaction I had tonight, twenty years from now, when I'm one of the older generation, standing along the fence, taking in the action. Who knows, maybe I'll have my kid beside me.*
* Relax, I didn't knock anyone up.